


sol azul

by dipandpip



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dipandpip/pseuds/dipandpip
Summary: portugal, sun, dream journals. a 2010 fic.





	sol azul

**Author's Note:**

> apparently i am incapable of writing any other era

Phil wakes to the earthy smell of book pages and the feeling of a hundred suns.

 

The faint whisper of waves crashing and retreating against the shore echoes in the air. His legs stretch out past the towel beneath him, sand sticking to his calves and enveloping them in a scratchy heat. Grains pool around the backs of his heels as he draws his knees up slowly, wiggling his toes through the lush softness. An open book drapes over his face. It’s weight squishes his nose uncomfortably into the binding.

 

He makes a strangled noise - something between a yawn and a groan - before lifting the book off, straining his eyes against the sunlight illuminating around the edges. He shuts it and sets it aside, quickly throwing an arm over his face, eyes nestled in the sweaty pit of his elbow.

 

Him and Dan had arrived in Portugal just a few hours ago, having took the earliest flight out of Manchester. Neither of them got any sleep on the plane; couldn’t relax enough to block out the loud sound of the engine whirring and the excitement of a vacation together bubbling beneath their skin. As soon as their luggage had hit the hotel room floor, Dan was shedding off his clothes with fevor until he was stark naked, pulling up his swim trunks with one hand as he threw Phil’s pair over to him with the other.

 

“The day is still young, Lester. Come on” Dan had said, not bothering to tie his shorts before ushering Phil out the door.

 

Now, resting on a beach with nowhere to be and nothing to do but think, a part of him wants to doze off again. The other however would rather not spend his first morning in paradise sleeping the hours away and having to listen to Dan call him a tired old man when he wakes up.

 

The latter part ultimately wins, and with an exaggerated groan he lifts his arm back up and turns his head to the side, one eye scrunched tightly closed as the other adjusts to see the expanse of caramel skin sprawled out beside him.

 

After a moment or two, he pries open the other eye against the light and makes a trail with his gaze from the tips of Dan’s toes to the small dip of his lower back. Slick moisture pools in the crevice, glistening like the tops of the water reflecting the sunlight.

 

Phil wants to run his fingers through it, wants to draw patterns of moisture into his back and paint a picture of the rocky cliffs towering around them. He wants to kiss the spaces between his freckles, connecting the constellation of dots with his tongue, savoring the saltiness of his sweat, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his breath, his _entirety_.

 

Phil wants to, but he doesn’t, still sometimes overwhelmed with this desire that never ceases to lose it’s edge, even after almost a year. The feeling is wonderful and pulsing and bright and everything he’s ever wanted. But still overwhelming. So much so that Phil sometimes doesn’t know what to do with it; doesn’t know how to deal with something he’s never felt so strongly before.

 

This is one of those times where he doesn't know. So he just stares. Stares at Dan like his own touch could somehow break the illusion.

 

He’s propped up on his elbows with a pen clasped between his teeth horizontally, reading something intently in a journal nestled in the sand in front of him. It’s adorned with various doodles and words Phil can’t make out in the brightness.

 

He recognizes it immediately-- Dan’s dream journal. He hadn’t realized he’d brought it.

 

“Any good ones lately?”, Phil asks.

 

Dan turns his head, surprised by Phil's voice. His expression softens when their eyes meet, brown to blue.

 

“Eh,” Dan starts after taking the pen out of his mouth, still keeping his eyes trained on the page, “only ones where I’m being chased by a demon or all my teeth fall out. The usual”.

 

“Do I make any star appearances?”.

 

Dan scoffs playfully, lifting the journal with one hand and closing it with his fingers in a swift motion, throwing it aside between them.

 

“Hardly. Even if you did, you’d probably be the demon who trips trying to chase me”.

 

“Heyyyy,” Phil draws out, flicking a handful of sand in Dan’s direction, “I’d be the one saving you”.

 

Dan rolls his eyes as he props himself up with his arms and tucks his knees under him, shifting back to sit on his heels. His trunks ride up a bit, exposing the stark tan line sectioning off his upper thigh from the rest of his leg. He shakes the sand out of his fringe.

 

“Well then save me from the sea I’m about to fling myself into”, he says before rising from his position and making way towards the blue expanse, his feet leaving wide footprints in his path.

 

“M’too comfy though. Make friends with the seals!” Phil calls out after him.

 

“Suit yourself!”, Dan yells over his shoulder as he walks into the cool water and submerges himself from the waist down.

 

Phil just laughs as he turns onto his stomach, propping his head up with his knuckles, eyes glistening and impossibly light.

 

He glances over at the small pocket journal beside him before moving to pick it up by the spine. Dan didn’t mind him looking; he shared what he wrote in it with Phil almost every morning.

 

He turned to the dog-eared page Dan had been looking at, eyeing the date - May 29th, 2010 - written across the top right corner. Below it were sentence fragments and little pictures, a product of Dan’s forgetful mind trying to piece something cohesive together. Phil’s name was the first word written.

 

_Phil. Skin. Sun beating down._

_Blue sky wide and vast. Kisses, long ones, lingering ones. The feeling of love, of summer. The sun setting._

_Happy_.

 

Phil looks up from the page at Dan. His hair is already starting to curl with moisture. Long fingers skim the water on either side of him, feather light touches that barely break the surface. Phil can tell he’s smiling, just knows. He takes him in, bit by bit, inch by inch.

 

In that moment, his desire doesn’t scare him. All it does is excite him.

 

He picks up the pen and starts writing underneath.

 

_I love you._

_P.S. Your skin looks so nice under the blue sun_.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr (dipnpips) and twitter (@dipandpip)!


End file.
